


Independent Returns

by markovas, Mister_Smail



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 21:13:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20477549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markovas/pseuds/markovas, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mister_Smail/pseuds/Mister_Smail
Summary: A collection of our monthly stories, which need to feel the air of the public. Wait no further and read this piece of art, but do not falter and join us up, so we can trundle together!





	1. Chapter 1

A glimmer of nightfall, a bustle of noise that the streets murmured in the congestion of traffic and tingling nerves. Downtown was entering the lateness of the day with its ginormous scrapers of magnificence. Only those on the west side-still had the problems of the glare that touched upon them through the curtains of the offices.

Even if the clock of five had been long passed, the sidewalks were filled with people who all had their destinations, their goals and their routines. At least the incandescence of heat had lowered significantly in the artificial shade of glass and steel that was appreciated by all, needed by all, un-noted by all.

Under a bridge that crossed another artery of Downtown, with a rail to its lucrative center, was the rather obnoxious clanking of a tow truck that had had its fair lifetime of service with its scrappy frame and old-fashioned existence. Appearance usually shouldn’t have mattered, but in cases such as this, appearance was the number one factor of judge if something was a piece of shit or a waste of existence.

The tow truck was lowering a big police cruise of the ZPD into its expired back, while two small officers looked from a safe distance at the sight of problems and cuts of routine, one of the officers thumping rapidly at the ground with their silver-grey foot. With a very inconsiderable bash, the chains lowered prematurely and the cruiser made the whole tow truck to screech on its unoiled suspensions.

“Watch it! You scratched my cruiser!” shouted the smaller officer with angry fists that rowed the air in glower to the unphased driver.

“It’s technically not y—”

“Oh fluff it!” Judy snapped at Nick, as he was the only one to whom she could funnel her irritations of the day. But her head quickly realized her fault, and she put a paw over her mouth with the apologize, “Sorry… sorry, Nick. Urgh, it’s just that this _heat_,” she pulled on her uniform’s shirt and blew into the neck of it, having had already removed her kevlar armor since midday.

“See, Whiskers,” Nick said as he rubbed his claws in his trousers, “it’s a privilege for us to be here. Think of the precincts in Tundra and Square, eh?” Nick grinned at her with the pants of his own.

“_Privileged… yea, you’re privileged alright,_” Judy snorted as she pointed her paw at his chest, consequently, Nick looked down at his unbuttoned uniform’s shirt that exposed his creamy fur to a unprofessional standard.

“I gotta keep up to the standards of my species. People are going to start thinking things otherwise, yea?”

“That’s the excuse? Cheese and crackers, maybe I should do the same and show what the ZPD is all about, Slick.” Judy retorted as she tugged on the base of her tucked blue shirt. But as her eyes got to Nick’s, his head was tilted and one of his fingers was tapping his creamy chin.

“Hm… yea, got me curious,” Nick drew through a visible attempt of forcing his cooling pants off in failure. Judy’s black-tipped ears lifted in the air, as she couldn’t manage to understand the words and their implications-subtle.

“About what?” Judy probed in a step closer to the foxy officer. Nothing made sense to her in that exact moment within the realms of possibilities, until Nick put a claw on his neck and trailed it slowly down to the middle button that was keeping the rest of his body obscured. In the span of a flash, her mind caught onto the hint and her heart jumped inside of her to a raising blush that was hidden by the prior-raised heat.

Her head looked away and into the tow truck from where the ox driver with oily overalls jumped out in the sway of the big vehicle. Nick’s curiosity appeared genuine, as his eyes had not been jeering at that moment. They were scrutinizing and thought-provoking in exhibit. Of course, nothing the fox said could ever be taken as the whole truth and it was usually meaningless to try and weight the possibilities, hence, she actually found her race of thought ridiculous and that blush made her throat to tickle in a giggle that beamed at Nick with a glance.

Without even planning, she stuck her tongue at him with paws to the hips. But she didn’t notice his reaction as the ox intervened with his words, “I’ll drop in Mildmay Down. Hunch this,” he drew lazily and leaned at Judy with paperwork in hoof. An incoming vibration like a mini earthquake slowly gained tension around the ground, tho not strongly enough to alarm anyone.

“Mildmay?” she asked as she took the already-stained paperwork for the towing, in the confusion of the area the ox had mentioned. The bridge above shook and the active suspensions on its steel feet started moving, while a lightning-speed train went through, while dust fell from the edges and onto the unsuspecting people underneath.

“Buddy, that’s near the west docks. We’re headed to Precinct One,” Nick intervened with a step that his tail made air in Judy’s direction, something that made the blood that filled her ears a bit in lesser discomfort to the flares of heat.

“Aha… Drive _safely_,” the ox snorted and then just took his leave without any further clarification, advice or whatever.

“We need a drive back!” Judy shouted at the ox, but the big mammle just glanced at her with a pause, and then he just shook his head in disregard. Judy’s eyes were then filled with the blue and red of Nick’s steps that quickly followed, but when she saw him touching his baton, she instantly grabbed onto his tail and scolded him with a hiss, while the driver clambered into the tow truck with a loud crash of door, and tried to fire-up the whimpering engine.

Nick had stopped instantly at the tug, and then he lowered around his shoulder, from where he bleakly said, “You don’t just touch a fox’s tail, Fluff.” Her paws went away from the bush of soothing fur, and she interwined her arms ahead her body with dislike to his actions.

“You’re an Officer, behave like one, Nick!”

“I am?”

“You can’t just do whatever you want, you know that.”

“Tell that to Muskdam,” Nick huffed as he pointed at the ox that had finally revved onto the busy road, but this usage of nicknames had had the speckle of animosity, which could be an understandable element to the hustles of the day, nevertheless, Judy wanted to try and correct her workpartner’s attitude and behaviour, even if it usually amounted to her receiving the far end of the stick. Yet, before she was able to have her say, Nick stepped in front of her and edged close to her face with a slightly frustrated stare of exhaustion. “C’mon, just say it,” he breathed into her face to the wiggle of her nose.

Her scowl was inevitable, while the increasing heartbeat was strangely unnoticeable to her mind. Defiance made her to remain in this closeness of his jowl that had his upper fangs leaking from his lips. She huffed to his attempt of uncomfortableness, which was rather successful, and tried to squeeze out words to his ears, but then she was met with the warm stream of air that Nick blew at that very moment. She stumbled back from the onslaught of hotness against her eyes and quickly re-collected her whereabouts.

Nick was smiling at her on his propped knees, and despite her annoyance at his antics, she couldn’t find it in herself to not shake her head with an amused sigh. “Ugh… let’s just go home… there’s surely a line at the communal…” Her steps aimed her down from the road they had patrolled on and towards the nearby train station. There were a lot of trees around the street, as the green tried to compensate for the bleak lifelessness of asphalt, steel and brick. She got around some big people’s legs and tried to increase the skips of her steps, as she didn’t want to get back to her tiny apartment at the dead of night.

Something touched her at the wrist, and she didn’t have time to think it through, so her body snapped backwards and she bumped into the warmth and scent of familiarity.

“Carr— wait!” yelped the voice of Nick as she had bumped her shoulder hard into his stomach, due to their height differences. Her lungs gasped to the mistake, and she hurried to check if Nick was alright, before, maneuvering from a crowd of trampling pigs and rams.

“_Poison for roaches and fleas!_” yelled some kind of salesmammle that was desperately trying to sell his bulks of goods amongst the piles of people. Surprisingly, there was some success…

“Nick, I’m sor— I tho—” she tried to take his paw away from his stomach, but he took a step back from her and dismissed her attempt with quick motions.

“No wonder you’re valedictorian…” Nick murmured with a scrunch of a tiny growl, while rubbing his stomach and reaching to the planked surface of the short wall that was surrounding a palm tree-tall. Judy moved with him and waited with clasped paws in front of her chest, as she felt the awfulness for having had hit him so hard amidst the moment of reactions.

“I did—”

“Fluff, I get it, stop worrying and relax,” he interjected and gave her a glance of assurance, which she couldn’t soak easily due to the scrunching conscious of her actions. Her foot thumped the ground, while she tried to find a solution to what she had done. “As I was going to say… I know we’ll be late… but, look,” he pointed with his paw between the trees and flats nearby, where the big climate wall rested. “It’d be a nice end of the day, hm?”

“Huh? What are you… what do you mean?”

“_Poison, get your poision!!_”

Nick glanced at the furiously yelling elk and chuckled. “I mean. We go there and have a view we both deserve after this long day.” Her paws falling to the side, Judy’s nose twitched at Nick in the fervor of uncertainty. Where was this even coming from, and how could he see both of them getting to the top of the wall without any official allowance.

“We’re off-duty already and it’s late. We aren’t even allowed to go there and the tourist section is closed,” she listed but knew that he was somehow going to go against all she had said in a way to encourage her to make a decision in his idea’s favour.

“Officer Straight-Arrow, please be advised that there’s more to life than work and _rules_.”

“Yea? Chaos and anarchy.”

“Hu— Oh, you _fox_. Don’t do it for me, for yourself,” Nick pleaded as he stood and got at a respectful distance from Judy. Nevertheless, her resistance made him to huff and add, “Then for me, since you bruised me dead. I’ll forgive you and buy vegie pizza on the way back, yea?” She knew that she wasn’t going to do it because of such simple bribery, even if she wanted to make up to him and get a tasty pizza, yet the prospect of taking a small break and just… being, it did give whisper to a sort of… sinful sweetness.

“Fine,” she smiled with a turn on her soles, to which her teardrop tail flicked, and her body gained momentum at the direction of the Zootopia Climate Walls.

…

“Where are we— ugh,” Judy flinched as she saw a burly spider just in front of her head that glistened in the semi-darkness of the tunnels that they were now traversing. “Do you even know where we’re going?” she called from behind her partner, who was swiping with a piece of plank at the stringy webs of spiders and oldness.

“Yea… been some time,” he said lowly, and she quickened her steps around the piece of insectoid meat with beady eyes. Her flashlight roamed around the pipes and wires, while she wondered if this had been the right choice at all. They were trespassing on government grounds and, in a way, had broken in this maze of forgotten paths. It had been from the side of the metro, from where they had snuck their way into the active tunnels and to the inactive ones they were currently going through. She had no idea where or what this was leading to, but she trusted Nick’s judgement. After all, he knew Zootopia way better than she had ever hoped to reach in terms of knowledge-practical.

“Was this, _eeep_!” she shouted as something touched her neck, or at least she thought it had. Nevertheless, she rushed behind her partner and stuck close to his back, his tail brushing at her knees as they stepped, while the fox hadn’t even peeked to look at what had happened to her. That lack of attention did prickle at her annoyance, but she chose to forget that it had ever even occurred in her head and body. She didn’t want attention…

“So this is the relaxing after work you do? Crawling around tunnels like a savage and lockpicking doors?”

“Actually I used to do it with Fin, when we were doing schemes,” Nick clarified to her guessing, as he swapped at a spider that tried to stick to him. “It was kinda… exciting, you know? Aha!” The plank touched upon a steel door with a small, hazy window. Nick collected the webs and reached for the handle, which Judy was sure wouldn’t let him in, but as it scrunched in rust, the door actually clicked open and gave them a new sight of a service elevator. Nick smirked to her, put the flashlight under his muzzle and muttered, “Fox smarts.”

Her stare remained stuck as he moved into the new room of these dingy tunnels, until she realized that she was alone and that the pits of darkness behind her were closing onto her in quickness and relentlessness. In disbelief to his character, Judy quickly got to his side and looked around the many sensors and withered words that decay had filled up. Some of the walls had no concrete and appeared to be consisted of rocks… Like they had entered the wonders of an anachronistic world.

“Have you ever been here?” Judy asked as she looked up through the fence of the elevator and the dark tallness-unseen.

“Ehh, it’s been some time. But yea, I have… just let me—” when he touched a lever at the elevator, a loud bang crashed from the frame of old equipment and got both off-duty officers to flinch back at a hefty distance. Had Nick just broken government equipment? But she barely had enough money for rent an—

The lights flashed in flickers around the daft dark, and the lack of hospitability above was illuminated by vision. Nick gave her an assuring smirk and pulled on the safety doors of old, which screeched and bashed. He stopped at the controls and bowed like a fluffhead. “All aboard! The Wall express call for all swaggerers to g—”

“Is this even safe?” she injected with little to no amusement.

“This was created by the grandfathers of our grandfathers... of their grandfathers, heh... And _they _knew what they were doing… Apart from that guy,” Nick pointed behind Judy, which made her to turn in her breath at the implication that there was someone else down there in this forsaken place. But there was nobody at all, just—

She heard the movement of the safety door and was quick to find what Nick was doing. He was going to leave her down there all alone! Her feet dug into the concrete and she rushed for the gap that was left for her to enter, to which Nick’s amusement fell, so he pushed away the barrier of the elevator. “Fluff, I wa—”

“You jerk!” she clashed with him and thrusted him into the controls from the panic of her rush. It wasn’t intended, but it was the only way to kill her speed without colliding with the wall of the elevator. That made the box of rust to crash loudly again to the shortage of Judy’s heart, and then there was motion, all amidst her tightened paws around Nick’s shirt and their closeness to one another. She didn’t mind that closeness at that very moment of ear-chilling screeches and _clangs, _as it was actually comforting her that they weren’t actually going to die or at least that she wasn’t going to die alone... Wait, which of the two was it?

But then she looked up and saw the bemused expression that her partner was exhibiting, thus, quickly released her grip. The elevator wasn’t very big and it was obvious that it was meant for average-sized people. In front and around all that could be seen were steel supports and concrete, with working or flickering lights here and there. This distraction didn’t work long, because she started noticing her awkwardness at being with Nick in this constricted space, as well as the prior moment of body to body. Was she actually having such thoughts, or was it her imagination that was filling her with dumbness.

“You are a box of surprises, Fluff. As I said back then when you came back to me: emotional bunny.” Her brows huddled at him, and she didn’t find anything suitable to retort with, simply because it was true. Her emotions usually controlled her and got her to act out of the ordinary of her decisions. This was no exception, even if Nick wasn’t actually going to leave her alone, her instinct had bellowed at her that immediate action had to be undertaken, and she had believed her instinct without a shadow of a doubt. Was she wrong to do so? _Nah_…

They rode the elevator up for quite some straining time, and Judy could note that Nick was reaching conclusions from every moment passed. Why did he even want to get her there on that top? What was the point of all this… If he wanted them to hang out, that could’ve happened like usual in the basks of the weekends, not in the middle of the work week at a time and place deplorable to begin with…

“Who were you with last time here?” Judy asked quietly and believed that she had to repeat herself, due to neither of Nick’s ears flicking amidst all the loudness of the box of decay. Yet, he looked at her and gave a tug of a weak smile.

“That’s a good question. I wonder what’s the answer…”

The answer never came, and the awkwardness molded with the annoyance of being left in the dark without the proper attention. She twitched her mouth, but decided to huff and grow closer to Nick, while they were starting to reach a cleaner and more developed part of this heightness. The view was replaced with a slick surface of some kind of metal that lacked any properties of rust. Did it have a coating of paint or was it in its natural existence… Finally the elevator lessened its speed and reached an opening into the wall, where tidiness and order was all that was.

Nick blinked at Judy in satisfaction to her certainty that they were going to die, and then they crossed into the modernization and civilization of the enclosed corridors. The lack of piping or wires was confusing to Judy and her curiosity to how this structure was handled and designed. Her mind half-expected stones to be the construction of the building-upper, alas, such was not.

She was led through the corridors with many doors by the sides with labels of maintenance rooms, storage and even offices. Finally there were expensive cameras, but Nick assured her that if they didn’t act suspicious, no one would bother them. After all, he had included their cover before they had begun this small adventure, a cover which was the badges on their chests. Judy wanted to talk with him, but this stealth of trek had managed to seal her lips, thus, turning her into a mime of action.

They climbed flights of stairs and more excitingly clear corridors, until such luck of emptiness was met with a burly security guard with the name Bob and the face of a jaguar. Judy realized that she didn’t mind the name one bit, it was a very nice name, a wonderful at that!

“How’d you sneak here?!” the guard shouted and reached for his stunstick, but then his eyes noticed the badges and his shocked hostility found less disgruntlement. “Who got you in? None tell me about police here… Pete, you clumsy— You’re so…” Bob reached for his radio, but then Judy felt the air move at Nick’s decisions.

“We’re here at work, Bob. Pete didn’t know better, don’t be hard on him. We only had a call about suspicious activity on the roof, so we need to see if all’s in order. Yea? We don’t want anyone trespassing on your grounds, right Bob? No need for you to waste your constricted time, we’re already here.” How the fluff had he been able to adapt to the names and situation of the matter. The guard had only muttered the name of Pete, and he had already integrated it into his scheme of deceit…

“Activity? Bah!” the guard yelled and played with his fingers for several moments of indecisiveness. “Yea-yea… you go check, Officers. I gotta go… do stuff, yea,” Bob grumbled with a very small smile and quickly disappeared from the vicinity. Had he taken the chance to skirt off his duties at the offer of someone else doing his job? Unbelievable… Judy found no respect for Bob and his attitude.

“Wilde.” To her formality, she actually heard him flinch. “You’re _unethical_,” was her finalized addition as she drew steps, yet stopping at a crossroad of corridors to the lack of idea to where to go.

“Such a crime. Our careers after we retire,” Nick jested as he pointed to where Bob had disappeared into, while opening a grey door of aluminum and exposing more stairs.

“I’m not going to be a security guard!”

“Neither I a fox,” Nick returned and she snorted accidently as they clambered up and up the coldness of the height.

They finally reached the end with a big door that whistled loudly with light on its edges, which Judy judged to be the last step to the view that was to come. But the door held no keylock, it held no such mechanism visible, hence, Judy realized that maybe that detail had not been present in Nick’s last trip to illicit reaches. She was to pull on his tail, well, his sleeve actually, when he touched on the intercom on the side and spoke to the frost of her muscles, “Boby-Bob, open up.”

“_Ain’t Bob. Who’s that— Why’re you at the roof?_”

“Ask Bob.”

“_John is th— Stop fucking joking during the night!_”

“Why? I ruined your football game?”

“_Obviously!_”

“Then open up.” The door quickly buzzed like it would in prisons, and it opened inwards, while the voice from the intercom flew in echoes of swears and spite. It was already night as the inky darkness had flooded the sky and hung like curtains of many. Judy’s ears fell in disappointment for missing dusk and the colors of red that she had so many times seen in Bunnyburrow. A weight grinded in her stomach, and the possibility of getting caught, for being where they shouldn’t be, just took stage away from her priorities. The roof was wide and long, it was filled with solar panels and there were tall turbines that rolled to the murmurs of multi-seasonal wind. The transformers buzzed in monotone rhythm and the light in the distance flickered and moved with purposeful purposelessness.

They got to the edge of the climate wall, and from there could be seen Savanna Central, Downtown, the far reaches of the sea that surrounded Zootopia and the tall crowns of the Rainforest District’s green. She spun at Tundratown and observed see the mountains-natural in the farness as well as the artificial icebergs of structure that appeared small and insignificant from this absolute distance.

The elevation they were at gave them a view above the rest of the wall that surrounded Sahara Square and its endless fields of sand, which glittered in the smirks of stars alive or withered by.

No longer there was heat, the air was actually perfect to her body that had been rather chilled from the tunnels of old. She leered at the sights, and it didn’t matter if dusk was gone. This was… actually better and never before witnessed, this was what Zootopia was all about. Try everything… Huh, should’ve been more like see everything.

The metropolis of light, the metropolis of _life_.

Nick got by her and put his paws in his pockets, his fur soothing against the Tundratown’s chill that escaped the crest of barriers. Somehow the sight everywhere around her had reduced her excitement, with its funnel moving into the figure of her partner in law and friendship. His emeralds reflected that which he calmly stood against, dancing images of tiny lights filling inside his irises. Fur twinkled like grass and his long tail slowly wagged from corner to corner. She couldn’t deny this: he was _handsome_.

“What’s on your mind, Fluff?” Like burned, Judy flinched and quickly diverted her lilacs to the sights that lacked the red fox.

Her rabbit heart entered overdrive, and she stuttered in nothingness, “N-nothing… j-just nice… we m-missed dusk!” She pointed at the silent horizon as if trying to prove her overly glorified statement.

“Huh… we did,” Nick acknowledged, and the aftermath of slowness entered the surroundings. Judy knew there was tension, but she didn’t know how to bring it up. “Is it the same here like in your hometown?”

“Eh? Oh, no. Well, I haven’t seen Zootopia from here, but… yea, it’s way calmer in my hometown. Natural and… handsome, _hih_…”

“Handsome? Odd word,” Nick noted, while she felt the anxiousness unraveling. But it didn’t have the required time to stifle her, as it did so anyway with Nick’s next words, “Judy,” he brought her first name to shock. He never used it if things were not serious, “can I… huh… can I hug you?”

Her head flicked to him in the span of a moment, her mind blurred and her thinking blocked by the unknown that had been created from this totally unexpected question. “What?”

“Do you… just, do you, I mean— can I hug you?” he repeated and she was now idle against him with widened eyes to the cheeks. He wanted to hug her? Did she want to hug him? Why did he even sought to ask about such? Apparently he had understood her unspoken questions and gave one answer through-in, “I’m not being awkward, I just don’t want to be hit again, heh.” The memory of the accident brought her erect ears down, and she twitched her lips in guilt.

And then, she just shrugged her shoulders and beamed at him with open arms to this strange affection, which was a unique fruit. “Turn around,” he whispered with a clawy gesture. She didn’t want to give into his request without finding out why, but he was her partner, so trust demanded that she did so without query or doubt at the renewal of the dazzling sight of magnificence-returned. What was he going to do, was he going to finish the joke on her and jeer in his usual _charm _or—

Two auburn paws moved in front of her slowly and wrapped themselves around her throat and chest, while more warmth touched upon her back and between the gap of her ears, where a long muzzle with teeth and creamy fur hung above her eyes. Faintness of musk reached her twitching nose, and she felt this incredible giddiness and warmth that spread within her belly and heart like a blooming flower of nectar-bliss.

But then there was a motion that pulled her back and she lost footing to her body in an _eeeep _that ended on the ground. It didn’t hurt any and it wasn’t cold either, when she had fallen on Nick’s body, which pushed further into her to the entrapment of paws, legs and head of the handsome fox, her partner. He nuzzled into her side and hummed in audible affection to this closeness, while her feelings sprouted in fantasies that she didn’t have initial capabilities of stopping.

“A view is not a view, if you don’t have someone to share it with, Judy… Empty your mind of everything and just… just _be_ in the _now_.”

Rooted onto fields, taking forest, hill and ravine,

A beauty of age, of history, of culture.

Home to many, defender of nation,

Its mark, the apex of civilization.

From red tiny roofs, to white imposing flats,

Set in rows of order-disorder, lined with veins asphalted,

Glinting gargantuans pristine, skulking chimneys of heat,

There is no end, there is no peak.

Thus this gives me wonder to how ahead we are,

Top the chain, creationists unparred.

Yet still, it tingles somehow wrong, _detached_,

The row of mountain behind, they somehow give more spark.

“Would you like to… come with me in Bunnyburrow next month?” Judy tried as the moment was more than perfect to the cornering of the agile fox. He couldn’t dodge the answer, and he visibly didn’t want to get away from the likeable embrace.

“Heh… oh you… Well, since you’ve left me no wiggle room… As long as there’s such nights ther— and _blueberries_, don’t forget that!” Her giggle vibrated upon Nick behind her, and she sighed the tension of relief to the accepting results, while letting the view to linger in her rejuvenation.

“Have you… shared this with someone else?” Judy asked innocently as she nestled herself closer into Nick’s benevolent body.

“You’re a smart bunny. Question about what is more significant,” he finalized and his tail gave a blanket in front of Judy’s chest. She saw this as a decision, and it didn’t take much musings to find out what the answer was going to be. ‘You don’t just touch a fox’s tail’ as he had said, unless a fox’s tail wanted to be touched.

In greediness, Judy grabbed the bushiness, hence, the only parts of her body that were left exposed to the world were her feet, all amidst the giggles and playfulness of life.

After all, life was meant to be shared.

...

**Author’s notes:**

_Hesitance jumps around your mind,_

_Grooms decision thus chosen blind._

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	2. Scorched

The Sahara heart sweltered upon the earth, the oversized heaters blasting their insistent heat upon the streets below, the walkways of desert and sandstone, the pavements of concrete burning upon the feet.

A blue-grey figure lay _dead_ in the front seat of her car, her limbs and thought processes ground to a halt by the high temperature, her mouth open and her pink tongue lolling out as her chest rose and fell against her body armor in sharp, small beats.

It wasn't natural for mammals of her species to pant, but a friend of hers who she knew well had personally recommended it for the extra chance to help herself against the elements. It stopped her turning into a car-baked piece of coney... but didn't help her keep her faculties in check, or her attention on the shape of the flat-roofed, low building down the street.

"Hopps, come in." The rabbit mentally crept to the cruiser radio, her sense of duty bubbling until it outweighed her heat-exhaustion, and she took the final inches of radio in her paw.

"_Hoohh— _Hotts here, _mm_... Chief."

"Calling in for an update, Hopps. What's your status? Have you tracked down where those crates came from?"

"Yes, Chief, a disused sorting office in the Sahara. I've done some scorching around. I'm pretty certain this is the place."

"Scorching?"

"Yes, Sir. I've scorched high and low. Location's hot right now, but I've boiled down the perp's identity. I've given Officer Sweltov and Delburnto a request for backup."

"Good work. When they arrive, don't try to engage, you seem a little out of it. Let Delgerto and Snarlov handle the take down. Also... don't worry about the interrogation, Hopps. You bring him in and, eh... I'll give him a _roasting_."

"Uh," she sighed, pressing her paws against her cheeks. "Please, Chief. Don't be torrid— _horrid,_ don't be... _uhh_."

The minutes passed, the heaters heated and the empty sorting office across the street showed now outward signs of movements. Officers Snarlov and Delgerto arrived shortly after and listened to Judy's professional, if somewhat breathless, account of what had gone down. Snarlov had made a somewhat-irritated remark about why Judy had called _her_, an 'arctic' bear, for backup in this boiling place, and then the two officers had broken into the building across the street and taken the suspect away in their cruiser-big.

Judy Hopps thanked them, standing on the egg-roastable pavement and trying to ignore the pain, telling herself that it was perfectly fine for the fur on her feet to fume a burning smell.

With their departure, Judy Hopps looked at the now-empty building before her. "Search the place," she check-listed to herself, "look for any crates with a matching ID address to the ones found before. Find any evidence of counterfeit money… or the equipment used to make it." She raised a paw and slipped her fingers into her ear, the inside of which glowed red like a plumb, for the flaming blood circulating under the thin surface.

Her wince of discomfort was inevitable. "And try not to pass out from a stroke," was the final note as she broached the door into the building and stepped inside.

...

The air was stuffier than the one of the desert winds, though the chance to escape the direct heat of those gigantic heaters was relished. The floor wasn't so hot as to singe her fur anymore, so Judy sighed with relief at those first footsteps into the comparative coolness of the building. It was still far warmer than Precinct One ever was, though the surrounding darkness of the unlit interior gave off a sense of cool comfort.

After a minute or two searching, the rabbit's phone rang. She pulled it from her pocket and looked upon the name, a smile drawing across her features as she pressed to answer. "Hey."

"Eh, come in Officer Hoppity-Hopps. We've received a large number of complaints about an overzealous officer going above and beyond one too many times and making the rest of the PD look bad. Know anything about that?"

"Oh really?" she answered, her voice thick with teasing. "And who am I speaking to? Mister Slicknickton of the department of Foxable Affairs?"

The male voice chuckled, but then the tone dropped to seriousness, "Ya busy, Carrots?"

"Not right now. I can talk a little."

"Heh. How's the city holding up? Fallen apart into chaos without me, hmm?"

"The ZPD certainly has for sure, there's practically no crimes to investigate."

"Yeah-yeah, Sly-bun, very slick. So, you're on paperwork duty?"

"Nope. Out on an assignment."

"Chief Buffalo Butt assigned you the toughest partner in the force to keep an eye on you, I hope?"

"Oh, Nick, come _on_," she retorted to his level of concern. "I _can_ go out working solo, you know."

"So where are you? You told me you were on the beat in Precinct One, yeah?"

"Sahara Central, actually. Some boar flagged me down, showed me this big stash of money he'd found. Turned out to be counterfeit."

"Huh. Much?"

"Probably about fifty thousand zev? All in wads of six hundred, small notes." The rabbit waited through an incredulous whistle on the part of the fox. "He said he'd seen them unloading it in crates from a van. He took down the number plate. I recovered the crate and copied its tracking number, and... Wait, Nick, it's... twelve thirty-six?

"Ehh... yeah."

"Did they change timetables?"

"Eh, I honestly have no idea, Carrots. No, not that I know of."

"Half past twelve, Wednesday. Shouldn't you be out on the racetrack right now?"

"_Yeahh_, about that. Well, eh... you _see— _slight problem with that, Carrots."

The rabbit paused in thought, her trepidation rising because of the audible discomfort his answer carried. "Nick," she asked, her voice completely steady with apprehension, "what's happened?"

"Judy, before I—"

"_Now_, Nick. I want a straight answer."

"Gonna... turn the camera on. Alright, Carrots?"

"Sure."

"Alright. Don't get startled and go into a swoon over my handsomeness now, not while I ain't there to catch you as you fall."

"Nick, just—" The screen on her phone changed, the image of the fox appearing upon it. Judy's words froze within her mouth, the fox smiling sheepishly and lying upon his back, while her eyes fixated upon the cylinder of red in his paws.

"Oh, Nick, your... your _tail! _What—"

"It's just a sprain, Fluff, nothing worse. The bandages are just precautionary, they'll be off in a few days."

"What happened?"

"Ehh..." his face now upon the screen, Judy was able to witness the sheepish look and averting gaze. "You figure it out. Don't wanna say."

"I'd guess you did it during combat training, but..."

"It wasn't self-defense class, Carrots."

"Something on the wall? You were climbing, slipped and—"

"Hey, you think I can't handle climbing that little ice-pick?"

"Well how?"

"Changing rooms. Four fifteen. Some dumb jerk of a camel put his hoof down right on my tail." Nick chuckled, turning a glinting emerald towards the rabbit. "Bet you've never had such issues, that _fwuffy_ little cotton bud of yours."

"Wait," she sidestepped, trying to avoid blushing, "let me... let me see the room."

The fox turned the phone around in his paws, and slowly panned it about the rest of the room. Judy scouted the sight, remembering the layout of the dorm and the objects within it. A small prickle of a giggle crept upon throat. "Nick, that... that bed you're lying in, your bed?"

"Yeah?"

"It's my bed, the bed I slept in when I was there."

"I know," he replied, easily.

"You know? How could you know?"

"'Cause a certain sweet-little-bunny leaves a certain sweet-little-scent behind her is how."

"Nh— _Nick_, you... you mean you know, that you can tell me by my—"

"Stalker-fox. I know. Whatever is your poor Ma and Pa gonna say when they find out your best friend in the city is a fox?"

"Best friend in the city?" Judy drew.

Raising a brow, the fox just gazed at the face of the rabbit, his expression as warm as the Sahara heat. "You tell me, Carrots. All I've got to go on is little signs and things I pick up. Can't say for sure."

"You, eh... you're not my best friend in the city, Nick." While she hadn't intended it to happen, the rabbit soon realized the reason behind the subtle twitch of hurt which flinched across his features. Licking her lips, she made good on her omission, "You just... _are_ my best friend."

Nick softened, fondness and delight spreading across him. He opened his mouth and tried to find something to say, but just stuttered a response, so he closed his mouth again and just allowed the soft grin to grow. "Dumb bunny."

"Eh, Nick... I'd better get back to it, really. Bogo's exp—"

"You're the sweetest, kindest person I've ever met, Judy. You mean a heck of a lot to me. You know that, right?"

Judy stared back upon the image of the fox, his fondness shinning from him and his earnest jades taking in her face, to the reaction of the same infecting her in bliss. She tilted her head, one ear standing up while the other lowered. "Did you smell for my scent when you first arrived? Don't tell me you picked it by chance."

"Eh-hem," he chuckled, scratching at his collar. "_Yeahh_, I may've... sniffed around a little. Be grateful you don't have my sense of smell. Some bad _things_ in these sheets."

"Be grateful you don't have my sense of hearing. You'd know when those 'bad things' were happening."

Nick gawked. "You serious?"

"I've heard it before. Seen it, too. There's only so long you can share a house with over two hundred teenage rabbits without... walking in at... an inopportune moment."

"Wow, okay. Note to self: always knock first when visiting the Hopps' farm."

"So the doctor said your tail was just sprained?"

"Just sprained, there's no panic, Fluff."

Judy nodded, smiling sweetly. "Take care of yourself, Nick."

"Trying, Hoppsie, trying. Not easy when you're taking self-defense classes against a rhino. But hey, least I'm not out there on the streets doing it for real. You look after yourself, Carrots. You'll have me to answer to if you get yourself beat up."

"I'm being careful, Nick. Promise! Speak soon?"

"Sure, sure... nothing I'd rather be doing on this off time. Nice to get a little privacy with ya, actually. Not having two dozen other nut-jobs listening in on our every word."

"They know who you are, any of them?"

"Know me?"

"That you saved the city with me!"

"Huh, guess so. They've been... a little funny with me, actually."

"Funny how? 'Cause if they're mistreating you, Nick, I'm taking the next train to—"

"Like offering me first go in the showers. Like letting me go to the front of the queue for the caff. Like falling silent when I walk in the room. Huh, like coming to me privately, like several of them have, and asking me for some quiet advice or words of wisdom about the city... and what you were like in person."

"Well, _ehm_," she responded, trying to hide her smugness behind her professional impartialness. "It's... just sensible they'd want to know how someone who had already passed the Academy had handled vari—"

"No-no, Hopps. They're interested in meeting you, knowing you. You, eh... well, you may not be the most popular officer among the rest of the PD, but let me tell ya something: after the next generation or two of new officers start working down at HQ, that's _allll_ gonna change."

"And for you too, Nick. Once you're working alongside me, I thin—"

"_Hopps!"_

"Eh, gotta go, Bogo wants me!" Nick just winked, his image upon the screen disappearing in a blink. "Yeschief?" Judy babbled, pulling the radio from her belt.

"Hopps, you've had more than long enough to search the premises, why haven't you reported yet?"

"There _eh_, well, you see, there was a snag?"

"Snag? What snag? I'm sending you backup."

"No! No, Chief, we, eh— _I_ was—"

"Trunkaby, McHorn, Higgings, Delgerto, Officer Hopps requires immediate—"

"Bogo! It, I was just—" Judy paused, her phone buzzing. She reached to her pocket, took out the electronic device and read the text just then received. "Tell Buffalo Butt that..." She smiled, reached back to her radio and said, "There was a small incident of a lost civilian who asked me for directions. I just took out a couple of minutes to show them where they were and which way they were headed."

The voice of the buffalo grunted. "Very well. Report in as soon as you've finished your search."

The radio fell silent; the rabbit returned it to her belt. Beaming to herself, she shifted about to the warm interior of this Sahara Central sorting office, and searched throughout the contents of the boxes for any signs of counterfeiting, or the tracking ID she had found upon the box of counterfeit money that had been provided earlier that day.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

_Hesitance jumps around your mind,_

_Grooms decision thus chosen blind._

_Your thoughts most succulent of snack,_

_All delivered by luscious feedback._

_So don't hide like a tiny shrew,_

_Thus share that belovable review!_

_\- One of our monthly gifts for our supporters! Monthly updates._

**Social Links:**

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  * **Twitter: _[InletReal](https://twitter.com/InletReal)_**


	3. Keslova Snow PT1

A boot-clad foot crunched down upon a steep-rising slope of impressionless snow. It wasn’t the soft snow like you found in childhoods and winter wonderlands: it was harsh, sharp, made more from callas ice than anything close to tender.

The owner of the foot moved a step. The top layer of ice collapsed beneath him and his leg disappeared, sinking down several inches into the white frost.

“_Ff_…” he exclaimed at the drop. Then he grunted, lowering his weight towards the ground a little and raising his leg back up the hole. He glanced up to the figure stood a few feet further up, as she turned to check on his condition.

“Come on. It’s getting dark.”

“It’s fine for you,” he muttered, “it’s just perfect for you— too light to break the ice.”

“We have to reach the house before nightfall,” she continued, ignoring his comment. “It’s over for us if we don’t.”

The wolf picked up the pace and caught up to the hare, his breaths panting clouds of frost. “Oh, we’ll freeze to death, wonderful. I told you this was a bad idea.”

“Why, because of the discomfort? Does that really matter right now?”

“Well there… there _were_ other ways we could’ve—”

“These winds, the ice… it’s going to make our scents impossible to follow, Wolfard.”

“It’s crazy.”

“Yes. It’s completely crazy. Who, out of all the options we had, would choose the path up Keslova: a frozen mountain followed by a lifeless sierra of jagged rocks?”

“I _guess_,” he grunted. They walked in silence for some minutes, Wolfard slugging with steep steps above the frozen ground, his every effort a struggle to maintain balance on the decaying support the sheet of ice offered. For all the cold, his limbs felt like they were burning, the air sharp, arid in his nose. It stung, so he breathed through gritted teeth. “Flo…”

“Talking’s a waste of energy right now, Jim.”

“Flo, I want to know how you’re doing.”

She chuckled, briefly. “Complaining’s a waste of energy right now too.” The wolf stopped and gazed at the mammal hiking before him. A limp smile managed to pull itself across his tight, frozen features. She hadn’t spoken a word of complaint the whole journey, and still she was stoic and enduring to the cold and physical trauma she’d fought against. He shivered, the bodyheat generated by his movement being sapped by the inclemency of the elements-frozen.

“How much further?” he asked, hastening to catch up.

“Maybe two more hours.” Moaning, the wolf prised back the sheep-wool gloves and the hem of his several jackets and shirts, and dug down to the watch hugging his bare fur. He glanced at the time, then hurried to pull the material back.

“Eleven hours already,” he snorted. “It’s a wonder we haven’t frozen to death.”

“It’s not too late to. We’re not safe yet.”

“How do you do it? Keep going?”

“How do you?”

The wolf thought, reaching up a paw and trying to wipe the frozen respiration from his whiskers. “Guess I don’t have a choice.”

“Nor do I, Jim. Nor do I.”

“We could’ve fled west with Nick and Judy.”

“A group of four’s easier to find then two groups of two.”

“We don’t even know if they’re alive still.”

“No.”

“Think I’d be able to call them later?”

“I would highly advise against it. No doubt communications are being monitored right now.”

“Yeah… yeah.” Pausing, the wolf looked down to the snow below him. He knelt impulsively and broke a piece of ice, laboriously standing and holding the slither of tasteless pawpsicle beneath his nose. “Uh jeez,” he grunted before moving to take a bite.

“_Jim._”

Startled, the wolf turned to her. “What?”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m thirsty!”

“You’ll blister your skin. You drunk all the water already? I told you to ration it!” She paced down the slope of ice, reaching beneath the outermost of her layers. “Finish mine, there’s a little left. We can melt as much as we need once we’re at the house.”

“I… I’m not taking your wa—”

“Just take it.”

Reaching out a paw to the small flask of water, the wolf’s paw lingered; before, his fingers closed upon Flo’s paw and pushed the water back at her. “I’m fine, I’ll be fine.”

"Then stop wasting our time and keep moving," she demanded, tucking her water away once more and turning to march back up the icy ascent.

They persevered in silence beyond that, the wolf committing to maintaining his energy, and to let Flo retain hers. He scrutinized her — that bundle of thick coats and large hood. He didn’t know how Flo was picking a path through the deep drifts of snow, or how she was keeping her resolve so steadfast against the ice around. He would have asked about it, but… issues were many and the answer was trifling.

The climb was getting shallower, though the terrain was growing in its trials. The white snow glistening cold and sharp in the thin air, it sat thick over the large rocks which were strewn in abundance. The steady walk up thick snow became more of a climb over an uneven, often unstable surface. In the places where the snow had melted, or fallen unstuck from the surface of the rock, the bare, grey face of stone could be seen.

Grasping his claw on the raw edge of one of the stones, Wolfard steadied himself as he stepped upon the next of the long river of rocks. Above them hung nothing but sky and grey clouds, the clean blue darkened by the mists. He turned and looked down upon the city, upon the world beneath. The sight was beautiful, in its way, the long expanses of luscious green woods and the rich farmland which laid beyond; the glistening blue of the River Avalon; the distant spires of neighbouring cities on the horizon, glittering like gold in the sun.

The black smoke rising from Zootopia was the only let-down, really…

He turned back towards Keslova, and saw Flo with her paws upon the edge of a rock a little less than half her height. Her legs contracted, then she hurdled herself upon it. Snow kicked up on the rock’s surface and her foot lost traction. Her leap turned against her, and she flipped backwards, crashing head first into the harsh, jagged—

Wolfard caught her by her backpack and heaved as she fell, pulling her from the fate of harsh stone. He held her as she found her feet, and set her back down upon the icy ground. She held his paw for a few seconds, but there was no time to linger, and the moment was as fleeting as the warmth of the wolf’s breath in the incessant-winter air.

The remnants of the rest of the walk carried without event. The sky darkened with the falling of the sun. The winds increased their efforts, the topmost layer of snow picking up from the floor, spraying Wolfard’s face with discomforting dust. The ground levelled out further still, and the consistency of rocks dissipated to a smooth surface of fine snow, small waves of which blew across the sleeping earth.

A white desert.

The sky grew yet darker. The clouds thickened to patches of black-grey above them. No longer could the city of Zootopia be seen behind them, only the flicker of distant flames. Panic betided within the wolf’s mind, the darkness closing in with every step they made; the air colder than the wolf ever had felt before, the burning stiffness in his muscles as vivid as fire against his legs. His vision had blurred and his breathing had become shallow and erratic in the unfair air. His mouth was parched, but Flo had long-ago finished the few dregs of liquid left in her bottle.

“Fh... _Rose_,” Wolfard said, his voice raising at the dark rushing of wind around them.

“I know.”

“Wuh… we _have_ to—” He choked on his words, on the dryness of his mouth, the numbness of his face against the cold. “Have to find shelter, the sun’s going, it’ll be pitch black soon.”

“I know.”

“Do you know… _ogh_ how much fhh-furhter?”

“No. ”

“Rose…”

The hare’s footfall slowed; she turned about and faced the wolf. “What?”

“Are we as… as good as dead?” She stared into the wolf’s face, the snow and ice blowing an ever escalating windstorm. The white around them no longer glistened, just laid in piles of freezing grey. She took her paw and put it upon his cheek, brushing away a little of the snow which had clung to the exposed fur of his muzzle.

“We did the right thing, that’s what matters.” Nothing whispered, only the sleet blowing around their legs. Wolfard put his paw to Flo’s cheek, brushing away the layer of snow from her in turn. He drew his arms closer and began to lower himself to wrap his paws around her freezing and snow-covered coat.

His brow lowered when his mind realized what this gesture was entailing. “No!” he shot, pulling away. “No, not after all this, we’re not giving up now.” He drew back, recoiling from the surrender he had nearly succumbed to; thus, he moved past the hare, his paw holding on her shoulder and giving her the needed steer. “We need to get higher,” he said, “get a look at the horizon before the sun leaves us for good.”

They dragged themselves up a mound of snow, their feet scraping on the tractionless ice beneath. At the setting sun, the temperature was lowering rapidly. Falling to his paws and knees, Wolfard managed to pull himself up the steepness. He reached back with his arm for Flo to hold on to, and with the aid of one another, they managed to steady themselves to their feet.

“Please tell me it’s around here somewhere,” he begged.

“It isn’t a big place, but…”

“There-there, what’s that?”

“What?”

The wolf pointed, his arm, his voice raising with the excitement of hope. “Right there, look!” Flo followed his pointing to the shape Wolfard had spied on the horizon: the small shape of dark grey against the lighter gray backdrop.

“I… it’s impossible to know from here.”

“It’s something, Flo, it’s something! It’s not a natural formation whatever it is.” He resisted the urge to jog to the house, aware that even just slugging was difficult enough among the freezing winds that had numbed his arms and legs. The gray shape grew in size and definition, growing to the shape of a wooden cabin among the snow. He slowed to a stop and gazed up at it, not quite able to believe the pilgrimage of thirteen hours was over.

Flo moved past him, climbing the small staircase which protected the door from being trapped closed with snow. The door wasn’t locked, so she pushed it open easily, turning to the wolf as he climbed the steps behind her.

The inside was no warmer, was no less bone cuttingly chilling than the freezing conditions outside, but, shutting the door, the wolf couldn’t hold in the sigh of deep relief. “A barrier between us and the snow…” he muttered, “no awful wind to deal with, a—”

“Through there,” Flo cut in, pointing to a door. “There’ll be some wood in the chest. Bring it. I’ll start a few— a fire.”

“Don’t you want to rest first?”

“The cold will still… is still killing us, just… a _fure_, food and a _fewr_, then rest.” Moving to the potbelly stove in the center of the room, she pulled open the door and reached for the ancient newspapers beneath, from where she ripped a page and tore it into strips. Wolfard found the logs in the room she indicated, which was the kitchen.

He returned and placed them beside the stove. “You’ve burnt the toast,” Flo said. “Place stinks.”

“I… didn’t cook any toast?”

Flo turned and just stared at him, her face impassive. “Oh. Here, take this, I need to…” She turned away from the wolf and stood. Wolfard couldn’t see what she was doing, but took the paper and continued making small balls of it which he put into the stove.

Flo hummed quietly behind him, while Wolfard spied a small box of sticks tucked beside the paper. He pulled it over and found a box of matches alongside the sticks. He put a pawfull atop the paper and lit the corners with a match amidst his shivers of cold.

The fire grew quickly, the wood having dried to a bone long ago. The fireplace was the heart of a house, some said. To Wolfard, it almost felt like the place was happy to be alive again. “You okay, Flo?”

“I’ll always love you, and make you happy.”

Wolfard turned and noticed Flo gazing out the far window. “What?”

“If you will only… say the same. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you.” Pacing to the hare, the wolf motioned to take her paws, while her cold, airy voice sang on. “Please don’t take, my suh-nshine, my… _honly_—”

“Rose,” Wolfard breathed, pulling the hare close to him and pressing his cheek against hers. It startled him how much colder even she was than him. With a gentle pull, the wolf moved the hare away from the freezing draft, coming in from the window, to the warmth of the kindling fire.

“No! Look, help’s coming, I need _to_ look… to…” Her expression froze on the wolf, then her brow crept down. Slowly, she pulled her paw free from Wolfard’s hold and she pressed her palms against her face. Wolfard didn’t try to say anything, just waited, moving only to pull the hare’s coat a little tighter around her.

Eventually, without her face leaving her paws, Flo spoke, “Hallucinations. Idiot. I should’ve predicted… should’ve, made…”

“You’ve got hypothermia?”

“Hypothermia, hypoxia, exhaustion… We should’ve taken some altitude sickness tablets when we stole the rest of this gear.”

“Huh. It sure was… interesting, for me. A cop, breaking into a—”

“A cop is only a cop so long as there’s a system able to enforce and uphold the law. Of everything Zootopia has right now, a legal system isn’t one of them.”

“What do you think’s gonna… happen.”

“Don’t know. And turn that awful music off.”

The wolf just sighed. “Come by the fire, Rose. Should I boil some water?”

“A hot drink would do us good,” she winced. “Pass me my backpack. There’ll be a kettle through there.”

After pushing the smaller of the two bags towards the hare, Wolfard stood and moved to the kitchen. The floor was dusty and there were a few dead insects, but he didn’t pause to take in the view. Finding the kettle, he tested the taps. To his un-surprise, they didn’t work, so he paced back through the living room and stepped outside, gathering up a few pawfulls of snow, which he pushed into the tin pot.

He glanced around at the view outside, gazing upon the sun as its final tip disappeared behind the now-black mountains. The world he looked upon now was lifeless and black. He shivered, the image entering his mind of where they’d be now if they hadn’t found the cabin when they had.

He shut the door and flung the metal bar across, blocking out the ice, the wind, the snow. He found Flo had mostly emptied her backpack, simply throwing the contents upon the floor. On the small table, she had put the four granola bars and packets of dried fruit.

Putting the kettle upon the stove, he took a granola bar and prised open the plastic, first shedding himself of the gloves and lowering the thick hood. He helped Flo out of the thickest of her coats, and helped her gently pull her long ears from being tucked beneath her many layers — the release of which brought a relieved sigh from the hare.

“So what is this place,” he asked, beginning to eat, “how do you know about it?” But as he got nothing in return, he asked further, “Flo?” She was gazing into the open stove, the flames flashing flickers of brass and gold upon her white face.

“It’s my grandmother’s place. Which is to say it’s my place given that she’s dead. Grew up here with her.”

“What happened to her? I’m assuming she’s, uh…”

“She had a stroke,” Flo answered, putting some of the larger logs onto the burning sticks. “Bedridden, lack of appetite, loss of memory, loss of awareness…” She put a final piece of wood into the potbelly stove, closing the latch.

“You were young?”

“Fourteen.”

“You were her sole carer?”

“Yes.”

“Then how, like… your education and stuff?”

“Books, Jim. I read a lot of books. They’re all in my apartment now, hundreds of them. When she died and I moved down to Zootopia, weh… _hnt_ to the college and told them I’d been home taught. Took the tests, grades, applied to university, that was that.”

"So… wait, your grandma lived up a mountain in the middle of nowhere?”

“There is a village just a few miles further north. We can get what supplies we need there tomorrow.”

“Crazy,” he muttered and checked the kettle. The water wasn’t boiling, but it had melted enough to drink. He took two cups from his bag and poured the warm-ish water into them, handing one to Flo. “Who’d wanna live up here?”

“It’s popular with the fishing industry,” she said, drinking.

“But… there’s fishing in Zootopia?”

“The rivers around here are all from Lake Boltok. It’s fresh water, not salt water like the river from the Avalon Ocean around Zootopia. There’s hardly a fraction of the trout down there than there is up here. It tastes better too, the fish are… let’s… let’s just eat a little and sleep.”

Finishing their small meal, drinking their tepid water, the two mammals stripped themselves of another layer or two of clothing. They stoked up the potbelly fire, found some sheets and bedding upon which to sleep, pulled them over to the stove and lay close in one another’s warmth.

Wolfard tried to speak a few last words of congratulations or reassurance to the hare… but soon realized she was already asleep. He lay back upon the wood, his arms and legs beginning to tingle with warmth once again, and his exhausted mind and body passed into sleep.

Sleeping deeply, sleeping like dead, upon the mountain, beneath the black clouds... among the Keslova snow.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

_Hesitance jumps around your mind,_

_Grooms decision thus chosen blind._

_Your thoughts most succulent of snack,_

_All delivered by luscious feedback._

_So don't hide like a tiny shrew,_

_Thus share that belovable review!_

_\- One of our monthly gifts for our supporters! Monthly updates._

**Social Links:**

  * **YouTube: _[Inlet](https://www.youtube.com/c/Inlet)_**
  * **Twitter: _[InletReal](https://twitter.com/InletReal)_**


	4. Keslova Snow PT 2 – Day’s Snuck

Twirls of tickling cold, belittling all those in its presence against nature’s reign of empowerment. The reach of its ghastly paws would go against the walls within, trying to pry open sealed gaps and escape to its sibling outside, a sibling of patience’s eternity.

There was a stir to the long-extinguished fire, then a groan of stiffness and exhaustion. It belonged to Flo whose only resemblance of her body was that of her pink nose, which wiggled to the master of time and life. The headache within her head was of lesser evil, while the warmth against her back could even be stamped as annoying, but the end of her nose spoke the unspoken gratitude of this blanket-alive.

Before her, the fire of yesterday’s night, were the remnants of heat’s admiration, heat’s affection. Nevertheless, the affection was present to the exchanges of energies to her back, and the wolf who had snuggled her close with his bigger body. Maybe there was something she could find about the situation, something to maybe cherish?

There wasn’t time to try and find things her mind had issues coping with, so she struggled out of the tight grasp and met the full force of her old home’s lonely confines, degrading to time, withering to memory’s gulp. In a shiver, she tugged on her coat, put on her hood and turned on her feet to go and wake Jim.

His form had changed to one of a fetus, as the lack of a pillow now worked against his previous comfort. Flow knew she had to wake him to tasks’ demands, but looking at his silly form gave her a twinkle of strange enjoyment, especially as his lips twitched in his muzzle’s attempts of finding refuge underneath his coat.

The heat from her back was dissipating, and now her body was whispering to her to get it back, as no longer did annoyance scrape her skull in wishes-unnecessary. His visible need for sleep made her sigh in fogginess, and she got to their knapsacks, where the leftovers of their supplies hid like cockroaches to extermination. The seriousness of reality, it brought her consistent mind to scour the possibilities of their surroundings and decisions-remaining.

With a quick touch to one of her inner pockets, she got out a silver, topaz ring into which she reflected her eyes deeply in calculating thought. If this was their highest chance, then it was worth the shot.

The way out was sought as she pushed the essentials into her knapsack. The destination was set in her head, and she just had to get there. But just as she put the weight on her shoulders in deafness, the groan of her wolf partner stopped her limbs.

“Really, Rose?”

…

Frosty white in shapes distorted, coating hidden places carefully sorted, its tops coughing ashy smoke, the air instilled with its transparent cloak. Life was stopped under all this frost, but the path was ready and bore people’s narrow tracks.

This didn’t discourage the two Zootopian refugees to stop their aimed direction towards the inner sanctum of the village-cozy. At least Flo wasn’t going through the thoughts of distraction. She knew the place well, and the trust in consistency just kept her steady with the confidence of knowing that everything had to be alright. Alas, she finally looked back at Jim, who was constantly swooshing around his unrestrained head, as to see if they weren’t being followed by their hunters-mysterious.

The village would have different _fur _in the seasons of warmth, and its appearance, as of now, would bear no resemblance of spring’s or autumn’s shades of life. Nonetheless, it brought newness to the heart, newness derived from the peacefulness-white. It was radiating from the protection of limited accessibility.

“I don’t agree with this, Flo,” Wolfard whispered, just as they passed by the fenced garden of an elderly mountain goat. Her mind asked of her to brush aside the words as noise, due to them being unworthy of her leaking energies, yet she found it in herself to sigh in a steamy venture, and glance at the paranoid wolf. The words of eyes translated for several steps, and she then just tugged on her coat and looked at a distant chimney, which was spewing toxic-black ash: signs of someone burning plastic.

The village hadn’t changed one bit, and it gave her more reassurance for their obligation to survival.

“Let’s go back. Now or never,” Wolfard insisted as he leaned forwards into their fast motion. She tried again to give him peace without words, but he wasn’t accepting it anymore, and it was causing a public issue, because they would have to stop in the middle of the narrow path of snow. The incoming person from the opposite direction got her to agree to give some bread to his hungry worries.

“We don’t have a choice. We need information, supplies. We must do this.” Her pace slowed as she looked into his eyes. ”There is no other way, Jim. We already discussed this.” Jim’s muzzle trembled in dissonance, but Flo couldn’t falter to stop and get him to see what she could, as the brown bear trudged along the path, making it wider and more accessible to those smaller.

“Mornin’,” the bear said in a polite smile, and Flo returned the curtsey as such was socially acceptable. But she did note the suspicion in the villager’s short scrutiny, especially when Jim had just peeked behind them yet again.

“Stop raising suspicion on us,” Flo advised as they dug their feet onto the crunchy cold.

“We have to know. Someone has to cover our backs.”

“Stop it.”

“They saw us. We just wrapped ourselves in a ribbon.” Wolfard breathed behind Flo’s hood, but she just chose not to react and gave fortitude to the village center, where she hoped to find hearth.

But then her knapsack was yanked motionless, and she was met head-first with the bloodshot eyes of the ex-officer and her partner. “See reason! We need to _fucking_ go, they’ll b—”

Flo wrenched herself from his hold and tried to quickly get them out of the area, since Wolfard was sleep deprived, just like her, but was now undergoing the awful aftereffects, similar to hers of last night. He didn’t have much of a choice, and she knew that as clear as the most valuable of diamonds. It was using the mechanics of manipulation, but if they were to save their endangered lives, such wouldn’t be a catastrophic aftermath in the end.

The village center was clean, the pavement below visible to the lackluster snow, while stands of fish on the other side bustled with the trading of life and money. There was a stationary plough jeep with its driver talking to someone in a tanktop-bare. Some people here were just immune to the cold, though the muskox’s fur alone would’ve kept that mammle heated anyways.

The sign of the center’s inn, ‘_Bob&Bait_’, conveyed rest to the hunger and embrace to comfort, which Flo didn’t think about, yet it was their destination all long. She knew the effects of people and warmth would reduce Jim’s anxiety and get him to relax internally.

Her other hope laid in the reality that they’d not be noted by anyone at the center, the least, but the plough jeep driver just glanced and stared at them with such wariness that she just couldn’t bite away the frustration of how the plan was slowly getting more and more dangerous.

It didn’t help when Jim just continued trying to spot everything around them. He appeared out of place, and more people were noticing. Their watchful eyes of apprehension: a feedback loop to Jim’s anxiety.

They got to the wooden steps, where the sign’s big Fish stared one-eyed into the village’s rooftops. Her amusement in seeing all these preserved parts of her past life crept to a subtle smile, but she didn’t allow it to linger too much, as they passed by another person and stopped just before the wooden doors of this welcoming inn.

Doubts were obvious, she wasn’t sure if they’d be accepted. They were strangers in this place. She didn’t expect anyone to remember her, and maybe it was for the best, otherwise an insider could rat them out, no offense to rats. Still, she had to do her part, so she sought for Jim’s paw and gave him a squeeze of comfort, which the wolf took with a lowering of his ears.

Condensation filtered between her flat teeth, and she pushed inside the heat of this old place.

Immediately warmth, music and smells of taste tried to escape the hearth of solace. The pillars of wood marked the invisible barriers of guidance. People without their coats cheered and chattered, while some kind of recognizable country music noised from atop the ceiling’s planks. Flo turned to see if Jim was following her proper, which he didn’t fail to do for once since getting in the village. Her mind carried a tiny assumption about them not being seen, but the patrons immediately checked them out when the door shut in sound. Yea, a mistake on her part for not closing it silently.

In an increased pace, Flo passed underneath the hanging nets of things-unknown and got to the multi-species-sized inn counter, where there was a lone ram drinking his big beer jug. Flo removed her coat’s hood and pulled out her long-white ears from the trap of warmth, her paw beckoning Jim’s bugged eyes to do the same. His brownish fur was now exposed in its ruffles, and his wolfish muzzle glinted to the low light of the fire. Hopefully the shadows were obscuring them good from the rest of the surroundings.

They sat next to each other on the wooden chairs, with Jim flicking his long tail from the melted snow he had forgotten to brush off at the entrance. He was not fully within reason, and Flo couldn’t judge him for that, tho judging was always a waste of time.

“How’s getting seen… by all these people, _smart_, Flo!” Jim hissed at her, while the ram a few chairs away took ear in interest.

“Did you know: the highest percentages of robberies occur during the day. Can you tell me why?” Flo asked as she got her glasses out of her inner pocket and put them above her nose. She didn’t even look for an answer. “It is least expected to happen.”

“Getting seen isn’t reducing any risk, Rose… and it’s already more than what I’m comfortable with.”

“Comfort is inconsequential.” The door to the outside opened in light with a bulky form of a person, which Flo didn’t focus on since she was giving more importance to the moment.

“Oh for… what you’re doing isn’t fair at all…” Jim sighed with his paw over his tired muzzle. What did he mean by that, why would he even say such a thing? Curiosity drew her out from the task at paw, and she was racing inside of her head for an answer. Maybe if she probed a bit, it would get out on itself.

“Nothing’s fair. It’s how it is. You have to adjust now to the reality.” Her eyes spoke into Jim, but his emotional frustrations were in the rubs of his palms, which she judged to be pain from the cold of their tribulations, hopefully not frostbite.

“Thanks… for actively participating in that _reality_,” he scorned as he looked away and upon the patrons of the dimly-lit inn. She took his words as acceptance, even if something was telling her that she was missing something. Knowing from experience, she decided to do as he had once told her, as to try and unravel the little nudge of different conclusions.

“Jim… what do you mea—”

“Where’ch’ya two lumber out from?” interrupted a bulky form with a red-brown striped coat, while it had a lumberjack cap of the same style’s ends. She recognized the mammle, he was the guy from the plough truck outside, who she hoped to have not had given suspicion to. Yet he was here, in front them and asking who they were.

Jim stood from the chair and put his opened paws in front of him, a move she remembered Nick, the ZPD officer, doing frequently when he’d try to hide something. “Just getting some hot coffee, and we’ll be on our way,” Jim explained with a overzealous smile. Even as he was visibly trying his best, he was nowhere close to the sly fox officer Flo knew.

“They don’t deal coffee here,” the bigger wolf grumbled and lowered his paws closer to his holstered axe, which was a clue to the escalated situation. Before Jim would say anything worse, Flo intervened.

“They do deal coffee here. It’s in powder and is in cans. Mother Anya always sold them in cans. So you’re wrong. Now leave us alone if you please.” The red-clothed wolf’s paws slumped down as he stared into Flo’s rational expression, while the air festered with an uncomfortable aura, one which Flo deducted to be of reason. But reason never existed within those who lacked it.

“The hell are ya?” the bulky wolf snapped, and Wolfard quickly moved in front of Flo as the other wolf pointed his gloved finger at them. “Ya’ll tell me now, or—”

“Leave them be, Boris! Can’t you recognize her? It’s Agatha’s niece, you fishhead,” said a feminine, but-deep, voice from behind the counter. She was causing a shadow with her tall frame, which made Jim to take a step away, while the other wolf faltered in a gawk. Flo knew who it was, and smiled in instinct to the moose innkeeper, a person who she hoped to see with all her reason.

“Hello, Ann. You look… older,” Flo stated after a quick summary over the tall moose.

“Hah, always the blunt child you are, Rosie. Can’t say the same, can I?”

“You can, because I am.” A normal person would go for a small talk, but Flo didn’t care one bit. “We’re here for supplies.”

“In a hurry?” All briskness failed at those words, and Ann glared at the big wolf. “Boris, stop staring and go clear the roads!”

“Ugh… yes, Mother, just… okay—” he mumbled and ran off, while Ann lowered herself closer to the sitting hare and tapped her fingers on the dancing reflections of the wood.

“Why the hurry? I know you’ve never been a talkative one but, I want to know how you’ve been. There’s so much that happens in this tiny village of ours… how’s the city, what brings you back here? Did you become a doctor? What about this youngster next to you, hmmm?” Wolfard shuffled audibly in discomfort to the suggestive smile of the moose, but Flo needed to just get them what they were here for, yet Ann was reluctant to give it without some juicy information, as she would usually call it in the past.

“Okay, but we ha—” A buzzing made Flo’s ear spring up in tallness, a buzzing that was increasing with each second, a buzzing too familiar to not be instantly recognized.

“I told you!” Wolfard exclaimed miserably with paws over his head, eyes scouring everywhere. What could they do, the rumble of helicopter blades was going to be soon over them, and they were stuck in the middle of the village.

“This is odd…” Ann said and looked as if about to get outside, but then she caught Flo’s gaze and scowled at her. “You?” Flo knew not to try and hide information, so she just gave a single nod, while the loudness had made most the patrons to go outside the inn, where it sounded like the helicopter was about to give hasty landing.

“You’ll tell me later, Rosie. Go to the back, behind the oven. Remember the place?” Flo didn’t even confirm it, as she grabbed Jim’s twitchy paw and rushed into the insides of the warm and empty inn. The sounds of the blades were reducing momentum, while the door that closed behind them spoke only uncertainties without end.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

_Hesitance jumps around your mind,_

_Grooms decision thus chosen blind._

_Your thoughts most succulent of snack,_

_All delivered by luscious feedback._

_So don't hide like a tiny shrew,_

_Thus share that belovable review!_

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	5. Keslova Snow PT4 – Osteoporosis

In the small amounts of vision, Wolfard looked for clues of exit upon which he could build ideas of escape, even if all his pleas and warnings had cracked under the wind of deafness. The refreshment of food had been good upon his insides, a bit too much, and he could now soberly link threads of thought like the wrappings of neurons within the cosmic universe that was the mind of every sentient being.

Responsibility was the issue his tongue was seeking expression to, as he had let Flo lead them to where they were right now. If only he had been more assertive and had tried harder to give rationalization and proof of her fool’s errand ways of going about… like everything. Yet, she was the most consistent person he knew, and trying to outsource her consistency with his was like a wheel-less race.

The fact alone infuriated him, as an inferior complex was being kneaded deeply down his panicked heart. She was like this from the start, yet this was not an excuse to look away from the behavior or crozzled apathy and disregard to his own opinion, as if it were powder from the ashes of something too dumb to be able to pass natural selection.

There she was, leaning against him in the tiny nibbles of what was another vegetable of deployed precision. How could he be mad at her… Her decisions and voice had saved them from getting engulfed in the flames of the city, in the aftermath of all this putrid conflict. Nevertheless, her mind was starting to lose its sharpness as she was hallucinating at the house just half a day ago, so he could concretely declare her lack of ability to undergo proper judgment for the survival of both of them and their future. If there was a moment in time when he could one last time try to talk to her, this was the best alignment of stars the sky could offer. No beating around the bush.

“Rose. This lack of comms as well as exhaustion has had a toll on both of us. I know you’re trying your best…” Wolfard stopped for a moment to get any kind of confirmation from her, but as the nibbles were ongoing-still, he figured she was listening to his every word, what else would there to be done in this dark space of sausages and potatoes.

“I don’t think you’re in any shape to take decisions for what’s best for us.” Would it be an impassive stare, or logic that’d break his ability to retort? His mind planned for many angles of what could incur, yet nothing changed. Maybe it was acceptance? This gave him courage. “You’ve done a lot, but your mistakes will end us somewhere in a 10 meter hole.” Why wasn’t she reacting to him? Did acceptance so easily crawl under her coat and into her mind, at the snap of several words which he could’ve spread upon the snow at her initiation of the morning journey? There were no nibbles anymore tho, so the retort had to come any second now. Anyyy second now…

It took around a minute of patience, Wolfard’s ears falling flat at the implications this had. He leaned his nocturnal eyes over the resting hare and noticed the closed lids of her tired face. Instead of desiring to wake her up and repeat all of what he had said, his shoulder was expertly angled, so that she faintly slid into his lap where he gave her snuggle with his paws. She needed this and there was no telling how long they even had, everything else would fit itself between the jigsaw pieces.

He didn’t trust this Ann granny even a tiny hair-bit, since she was a greedy old hag who had just bartered with their lives for a meaningless ring. Even so, who would know if she wouldn’t sell them out anyways, since she had gotten what she had wanted. Her punishment for collaboration wouldn’t be something a puny ring could give them insurance against. Yes, Flo had lost her marbles. This wasn’t a movie where every plan went flawlessly in the relentless chase of luck. The moment she’d wake up, he had to talk to her throughin and throughout.

But for now, everything could shift on the lowest gear on this off-road racetrack.

Time ticked and ticked in the music and shouts of joy above, while the dingy coldness walked in a crescent gait in Jim’s exhausted eyes. The lack of electronics had turned his world in disorientation, and it would’ve been a good idea to get some analog equipment for this suicidal trip. Not only had they almost frozen to death, but they had to now endure fate’s unknown.

The trapdoor of the basement suddenly opened, strange how his ears had not detected a single step, with a small beaver jumping down light’s cease. Faint initials could be seen of the person, but Jim struck no motion, his heart trying to find a predatory rhythm of focus, while Flo had stirred in the sprung of her ears of vision. He knew it, Ann had sold them out, but why then was this short person here: unarmed and… uncertain?

“Mother… _sheee_… ughm,” the beaver muttered, touching his solid tail, “stay until night. Safe.”

“Okay, we can wait—” Jim tried to acknowledge, but Flo did it again.

“We’re going right now. Nighttime, we’ll be easily spotted. We’ll pack our bags and are departing immediately.”

“Wait, Fl—”

“There’s nothing to argue, Jim. They’re here, distracted. We let this go, we’re never getting out.” Jim’s knuckles whitened in silent disobedience to her endless stream of swinging water ready to jump over the dam’s walls.

“I’ll, _ughm_… tell her,” the beaver murmured in swiftness and exited through the narrow crack of the trapdoor. Again, they were alone.

“Flo, you’re _crushed_. Your last calls were all mistakes. I want you to stop,” Jim sharpened at her quickened new pace of getting her knapsack sealed and ready for the run. “Stop ignoring and listen to me for once!” Jim accidently raised his voice, Flo’s actions freezing to her blindness, yet her ears visibly could pinpoint his spot. But, even as he had done this, she was still keeping quiet.

“Pack the food, we’re moving.”

“No.”

“Wolfard,” she lisped, the focus behind her glasses filling Jim in doubt lacking glory.

“Your calls don’t count, not after putting us here in the middle of the day and trusting this old greedy witch with our lives. Not when you were hallucinating just _like_ last night.” The creaks of dust were the answer Jim only got, but it was more than enough for him to get the idea which brought his guts to a squirmish knot. “So you’re just going to leave me? Is that what you’re thinking, Rose?”

“Jim… Listen. You’re right. I’m tired, but I know what I’m doing and it’s the only way for us to survive. Starving to death at my aunt’s house was not an option. This was and is the only way.”

“In the middle of the town? At midday!? Do I have to repeat myself again and again before you realize how ridiculous this is? Just because you’ve hidden your registration plate doesn’t mean you can’t be caught.”

“What?”

“Forget it… I don’t want us to stay here. I know they’ll have thermal trackers and this Ann thing is as trustworthy as a fo—” Jim managed to catch himself from blabbering prejudiced convictions. “But we mustn’t do this now. See reason!”

“If this is your choice, Jim, I cannot do anything about it.” Constriction of loneliness pierced his coat and fur like radiation-unseen to what the words carried without much attachment. Sure, this was who Flo was, but despite the traction of their history and experiences, she’d said she’d just leave him? Yes, it did sound like her, yet it still felt like manipulation-calculated for him to betray his own decisions and ideas. This was awful.

“You’re manipulative and it’s unfair.”

“I’m only informing you. The facts ask of us to do all these dangerous decisions. You believe you know better, but I’ve explained to you how you’re wrong.”

“You’ve explained nothing, Rose!” Her head tilted aside, like if what he was saying was nothing but impure babble.

“Why are you so odd?” Her eyes stared in the darkness, and he couldn’t come close to the understanding of what the hell she was on about with him, as if his behavior was out of this world. It wasn’t his, it was hers! The floorboards creaked above, dust levitating freely.

“Don’t dodge and explain!” The trapdoor opened and the voice of Ann ushered for them to move. Flo didn’t even wait to give him an answer or a humble nod, just grabbed her knapsack and rushed to the ladder. Wolfard wanted to just stay there and keep to his stance, but then realized how this separation could lead to irreversible consequences. He couldn’t emotionally drive her to conform, it was an impossible feat.

So he did the only thing left of options and followed with shiny teeth against the kitchen light. Up the creaky steps of the ladder, he noticed the panic in Ann’s hoofs. Yea, no wonder.

“You’re netting yourself, Rosie. Gut the day,” Ann urged, and Jim somehow saw Flo’s choice as the right one due to the lack of trust in the innkeeper’s intentions. If Ann wanted for them to wait, then what would say she wasn’t scheming how to _accidently _find them in the basement and call the bounty hunters? As expected, Flo didn’t acknowledge the urges of caution, soldiering on with the heavy knapsack to the cover of the oven.

The scents of fish, bread and spices were calling upon Jim’s filled stomach for further stuffing, and his stress was replaced with dreamy inconsistencies in the span of the trapdoor’s thump. What now, what was the plan? The laughs and jeers of the hostile voices cut into the reflexes of Jim’s curled tail. They were just behind the door, and the only barrier to them being caught was Ann’s honor, which could be measured in the size of one worthless relic.

Was it going to be some kind of a sewer or a secret exit? Or maybe a secret tunnel leading out of the village, crafted by the ancestors’ need to defend themselves from mountain foes. Ann creaked open another backdoor and they walked through a narrow corridor which was stacked with firewood on both sides, forming cliffs of splinters and exposed cores, scowling under the trivial flicker of vision. His boots crunched the sawdust in the disturbance of lung’s annoyance. The hell was this place? Didn’t they have a section where they could properly store the wood…

Ann hit her shoulder more than one time on elongated pieces, grunting and shoving them into discipline. Flo wasn’t even turning around like Wolfard, which spoke to him her trust in this elderly greedy witch. How could you even put your faith in someone who could be bought?

They climbed down some blackened stairs, still riddled with the same firewood of prickle, and got to a large room of soot, next to which was this bulky furnace and boiler, which were emanating uncomfortable heat. Ann stopped just at the line of dirty coal and looked in disgruntlement at both refugees.

“Use the coal hatch. Stick to gardens. And get away from these gametes!” Flo crunched against the remains of extinction quickly up, as the pile gave height to what apparently looked like their only way out. Jim found curiosity in looking around the place of old, place of history, but his mind was nagged. “What you driftnetting about? Scram!” The slap of her hooves made him jump with claws at the ready, but she won the round of intimidation from her sheer size. Thanking her was on his mind, but not anymore.

As he clambered up the pigments of monochrome, he heard her ask, “What made the city burn?” Pft, as if he’d tell her anything, as if she were genuinely interested in knowing. The chance to do so was there in the basement of food, but all she wanted was a barter. She could go fish herself, yet Flo had stopped just at the hatch, visibly contemplating.

“Our osteoporosis,” Flo said with blank eyes at Mother Ann’s twitchy lack of understanding. Jim grabbed on the black bar keeping the hatch locked and flung it to the other side, not having the patience to stay in the trappers’ d a second longer.

“What?” Since pushing normally didn’t work, he bashed the steel with his shoulder, opening a sky of grey, a gust of ice and disturbance of snow’s blanket. The snow which fell on his nose expunged a grunt from his heart, but he put his feet to the escape, stopping shortly after in register to Flo’s lack of initiation.

“A disease that majorly affects the bones’ density, resulting in easily susceptible fractures. Later stages can lead to broken ribs just from a cough. Prevention ca—”

“Rose!” Jim shouted at the temporarily blinded hare, reaching his paw for hers in a message too unsubtle to be missed. She adjusted her glasses and took the gesture, the door to the basement shutting soundly at stare’s misinformation.

Mother Ann only rubbed her chin and sighed a simple, “Huh,” while the winds of frost slowly covered the tracks of the two former Zootopians, relentlessly hunted for what they stood for, mingled randomly in the odds of a broken system.

...

**Author’s notes:**

_Hesitance jumps around your mind,_

_Grooms decision thus chosen blind._

_Your thoughts most succulent of snack,_

_All delivered by luscious feedback._

_So don’t hide like a tiny shrew,_

_Thus share that belovable review!_

_\- Our montly gift for our supporters! Monthly updates._

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	6. Keslova Snow CH4 - Osteoporosis

In the small amounts of vision, Wolfard looked for clues of exit upon which he could build ideas of escape, even if all his pleas and warnings had cracked under the wind of deafness. The refreshment of food had been good upon his insides, a bit too much, and he could now soberly link threads of thought like the wrappings of neurons within the cosmic universe that was the mind of every sentient being.

Responsibility was the issue his tongue was seeking expression to, as he had let Flo lead them to where they were right now. If only he had been more assertive and had tried harder to give rationalization and proof of her fool's errand ways of going about… like everything. Yet, she was the most consistent person he knew, and trying to outsource her consistency with his was like a wheel-less race.

The fact alone infuriated him, as an inferior complex was being kneaded deeply down his panicked heart. She was like this from the start, yet this was not an excuse to look away from the behavior or crozzled apathy and disregard to his own opinion, as if it were powder from the ashes of something too dumb to be able to pass natural selection.

There she was, leaning against him in the tiny nibbles of what was another vegetable of deployed precision. How could he be mad at her… Her decisions and voice had saved them from getting engulfed in the flames of the city, in the aftermath of all this putrid conflict. Nevertheless, her mind was starting to lose its sharpness as she was hallucinating at the house just half a day ago, so he could concretely declare her lack of ability to undergo proper judgment for the survival of both of them and their future. If there was a moment in time when he could one last time try to talk to her, this was the best alignment of stars the sky could offer. No beating around the bush.

"Rose. This lack of comms as well as exhaustion has had a toll on both of us. I know you're trying your best…" Wolfard stopped for a moment to get any kind of confirmation from her, but as the nibbles were ongoing-still, he figured she was listening to his every word, what else would there to be done in this dark space of sausages and potatoes.

"I don't think you're in any shape to take decisions for what's best for us." Would it be an impassive stare, or logic that'd break his ability to retort? His mind planned for many angles of what could incur, yet nothing changed. Maybe it was acceptance? This gave him courage. "You've done a lot, but your mistakes will end us somewhere in a 10 meter hole." Why wasn't she reacting to him? Did acceptance so easily crawl under her coat and into her mind, at the snap of several words which he could've spread upon the snow at her initiation of the morning journey? There were no nibbles anymore tho, so the retort had to come any second now. Anyyy second now…

It took around a minute of patience, Wolfard's ears falling flat at the implications this had. He leaned his nocturnal eyes over the resting hare and noticed the closed lids of her tired face. Instead of desiring to wake her up and repeat all of what he had said, his shoulder was expertly angled, so that she faintly slid into his lap where he gave her snuggle with his paws. She needed this and there was no telling how long they even had, everything else would fit itself between the jigsaw pieces.

He didn't trust this Ann granny even a tiny hair-bit, since she was a greedy old hag who had just bartered with their lives for a meaningless ring. Even so, who would know if she wouldn't sell them out anyways, since she had gotten what she had wanted. Her punishment for collaboration wouldn't be something a puny ring could give them insurance against. Yes, Flo had lost her marbles. This wasn't a movie where every plan went flawlessly in the relentless chase of luck. The moment she'd wake up, he had to talk to her throughin and throughout.

But for now, everything could shift on the lowest gear on this off-road racetrack.

Time ticked and ticked in the music and shouts of joy above, while the dingy coldness walked in a crescent gait in Jim's exhausted eyes. The lack of electronics had turned his world in disorientation, and it would've been a good idea to get some analog equipment for this suicidal trip. Not only had they almost frozen to death, but they had to now endure fate's unknown.

The trapdoor of the basement suddenly opened, strange how his ears had not detected a single step, with a small beaver jumping down light's cease. Faint initials could be seen of the person, but Jim struck no motion, his heart trying to find a predatory rhythm of focus, while Flo had stirred in the sprung of her ears of vision. He knew it, Ann had sold them out, but why then was this short person here: unarmed and… uncertain?

"Mother… _sheee_… ughm," the beaver muttered, touching his solid tail, "stay until night. Safe."

"Okay, we can wait—" Jim tried to acknowledge, but Flo did it again.

"We're going right now. Nighttime, we'll be easily spotted. We'll pack our bags and are departing immediately."

"Wait, Fl—"

"There's nothing to argue, Jim. They're here, distracted. We let this go, we're never getting out." Jim's knuckles whitened in silent disobedience to her endless stream of swinging water ready to jump over the dam's walls.

"I'll, _ughm_… tell her," the beaver murmured in swiftness and exited through the narrow crack of the trapdoor. Again, they were alone.

"Flo, you're _crushed_. Your last calls were all mistakes. I want you to stop," Jim sharpened at her quickened new pace of getting her knapsack sealed and ready for the run. "Stop ignoring and listen to me for once!" Jim accidently raised his voice, Flo's actions freezing to her blindness, yet her ears visibly could pinpoint his spot. But, even as he had done this, she was still keeping quiet.

"Pack the food, we're moving."

"No."

"Wolfard," she lisped, the focus behind her glasses filling Jim in doubt lacking glory.

"Your calls don't count, not after putting us here in the middle of the day and trusting this old greedy witch with our lives. Not when you were hallucinating just _like_ last night." The creaks of dust were the answer Jim only got, but it was more than enough for him to get the idea which brought his guts to a squirmish knot. "So you're just going to leave me? Is that what you're thinking, Rose?"

"Jim… Listen. You're right. I'm tired, but I know what I'm doing and it's the only way for us to survive. Starving to death at my aunt's house was not an option. This was and is the only way."

"In the middle of the town? At midday!? Do I have to repeat myself again and again before you realize how ridiculous this is? Just because you've hidden your registration plate doesn't mean you can't be caught."

"What?"

"Forget it… I don't want us to stay here. I know they'll have thermal trackers and this Ann thing is as trustworthy as a fo—" Jim managed to catch himself from blabbering prejudiced convictions. "But we mustn't do this now. See reason!"

"If this is your choice, Jim, I cannot do anything about it." Constriction of loneliness pierced his coat and fur like radiation-unseen to what the words carried without much attachment. Sure, this was who Flo was, but despite the traction of their history and experiences, she'd said she'd just leave him? Yes, it did sound like her, yet it still felt like manipulation-calculated for him to betray his own decisions and ideas. This was awful.

"You're manipulative and it's unfair."

"I'm only informing you. The facts ask of us to do all these dangerous decisions. You believe you know better, but I've explained to you how you're wrong."

"You've explained nothing, Rose!" Her head tilted aside, like if what he was saying was nothing but impure babble.

"Why are you so odd?" Her eyes stared in the darkness, and he couldn't come close to the understanding of what the hell she was on about with him, as if his behavior was out of this world. It wasn't his, it was hers! The floorboards creaked above, dust levitating freely.

"Don't dodge and explain!" The trapdoor opened and the voice of Ann ushered for them to move. Flo didn't even wait to give him an answer or a humble nod, just grabbed her knapsack and rushed to the ladder. Wolfard wanted to just stay there and keep to his stance, but then realized how this separation could lead to irreversible consequences. He couldn't emotionally drive her to conform, it was an impossible feat.

So he did the only thing left of options and followed with shiny teeth against the kitchen light. Up the creaky steps of the ladder, he noticed the panic in Ann's hoofs. Yea, no wonder.

"You're netting yourself, Rosie. Gut the day," Ann urged, and Jim somehow saw Flo's choice as the right one due to the lack of trust in the innkeeper's intentions. If Ann wanted for them to wait, then what would say she wasn't scheming how to _accidently _find them in the basement and call the bounty hunters? As expected, Flo didn't acknowledge the urges of caution, soldiering on with the heavy knapsack to the cover of the oven.

The scents of fish, bread and spices were calling upon Jim's filled stomach for further stuffing, and his stress was replaced with dreamy inconsistencies in the span of the trapdoor's thump. What now, what was the plan? The laughs and jeers of the hostile voices cut into the reflexes of Jim's curled tail. They were just behind the door, and the only barrier to them being caught was Ann's honor, which could be measured in the size of one worthless relic.

Was it going to be some kind of a sewer or a secret exit? Or maybe a secret tunnel leading out of the village, crafted by the ancestors' need to defend themselves from mountain foes. Ann creaked open another backdoor and they walked through a narrow corridor which was stacked with firewood on both sides, forming cliffs of splinters and exposed cores, scowling under the trivial flicker of vision. His boots crunched the sawdust in the disturbance of lung's annoyance. The hell was this place? Didn't they have a section where they could properly store the wood…

Ann hit her shoulder more than one time on elongated pieces, grunting and shoving them into discipline. Flo wasn't even turning around like Wolfard, which spoke to him her trust in this elderly greedy witch. How could you even put your faith in someone who could be bought?

They climbed down some blackened stairs, still riddled with the same firewood of prickle, and got to a large room of soot, next to which was this bulky furnace and boiler, which were emanating uncomfortable heat. Ann stopped just at the line of dirty coal and looked in disgruntlement at both refugees.

"Use the coal hatch. Stick to gardens. And get away from these gametes!" Flo crunched against the remains of extinction quickly up, as the pile gave height to what apparently looked like their only way out. Jim found curiosity in looking around the place of old, place of history, but his mind was nagged. "What you driftnetting about? Scram!" The slap of her hooves made him jump with claws at the ready, but she won the round of intimidation from her sheer size. Thanking her was on his mind, but not anymore.

As he clambered up the pigments of monochrome, he heard her ask, "What made the city burn?" Pft, as if he'd tell her anything, as if she were genuinely interested in knowing. The chance to do so was there in the basement of food, but all she wanted was a barter. She could go fish herself, yet Flo had stopped just at the hatch, visibly contemplating.

"Our osteoporosis," Flo said with blank eyes at Mother Ann's twitchy lack of understanding. Jim grabbed on the black bar keeping the hatch locked and flung it to the other side, not having the patience to stay in the trappers' d a second longer.

"What?" Since pushing normally didn't work, he bashed the steel with his shoulder, opening a sky of grey, a gust of ice and disturbance of snow's blanket. The snow which fell on his nose expunged a grunt from his heart, but he put his feet to the escape, stopping shortly after in register to Flo's lack of initiation.

"A disease that majorly affects the bones' density, resulting in easily susceptible fractures. Later stages can lead to broken ribs just from a cough. Prevention ca—"

"Rose!" Jim shouted at the temporarily blinded hare, reaching his paw for hers in a message too unsubtle to be missed. She adjusted her glasses and took the gesture, the door to the basement shutting soundly at stare's misinformation.

Mother Ann only rubbed her chin and sighed a simple, "Huh," while the winds of frost slowly covered the tracks of the two former Zootopians, relentlessly hunted for what they stood for, mingled randomly in the odds of a broken system.

**Author’s notes:**

_Hesitance jumps around your mind,_

_Grooms decision thus chosen blind._

_Your thoughts most succulent of snack,_

_All delivered by luscious feedback._

_So don’t hide like a tiny shrew,_

_Thus share that belovable review!_

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